


The Marine Parkway Bridge

by Ember2123



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Insecurity, M/M, Slow Build, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 13:09:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11487057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ember2123/pseuds/Ember2123
Summary: "If you are nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it."Peter was nothing if he wasn't Spiderman, so when Tony takes his suit away he loses everything that helped him get through the day. He was helping and now he was nothing. He dreams of the bridge and what life will be like when he's gone.





	The Marine Parkway Bridge

_If you are nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it. ___

____

The words echoed loudly in Peters head, and they resounded intensely in the empty parking garage he was shouting it in. He had been yelling for hours. His voice was hoarse, and slow tears strangled through his lashes and past his tense muscles. It helped or- he didn't know- he felt the words settle in his chest like they belonged. He couldn't be trusted with the suit. He had disappointed Tony, the one thing he had been trying not to do. Hearing the ricochet of the syllables off the cement walls- it solidified the pain in his chest. The shakey vibration of his bones as he shook with his sobs. 

He continued to shout until his voice was nothing more but a strangled whisper. Until every word was a murmur of what was. He was Spiderman. He was helping. Now- now he was nothing. 

He dragged himself out of bed every morning, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and put a smile on his face for everyone else to see. He smiled so Aunt May couldn't see the hurt behind his eyes as he zipped his blue and red sweatshirt. It had started as his first spiderman suit, but it had gone back to just being some ratty old jacket. Tony was right- he had done more hurt than good. It was better if he stopped and left it to the professionals. He went back to school, joined the academics team once again, and resumed the life he had left behind. Only now, it didn't fill him with the same sense of accomplishment. He went from disarming criminals to trading his lunch and pining after a girl. Every morning was more lackluster than the last. Getting up was harder, the smile even more difficult. Sometimes, he would bring Happy's contact up and pretend to tell him all about his day. It only brought him a modicum of comfort as he remembered what had been. 

Other days, the contact picture wasn't enough. Even when he had the suit, Tony was never just a 'call' away. Peter felt alone. He felt like he had lost everyone who cared about him, but came to the realization that May and Ned were the only two ever looking out for him. Peter didn't want to hurt them again, but he seemed to keep making mistake after mistake.  


Peter had taken to staring out his window at night. He didn't sleep very much anymore, his dreams forced screams and sobs into the still night. They made him fight the covers off his restless body, because the heaviness of the blanket turned into concrete slabs that crushed the air out of his chest. So he spent most nights looking out the window- at the stars that should have been there if it weren't for all the artificial light around the city. He would climb onto the roof and memorize the cracked pavement of the empty street before him.

Sometimes, he would step right onto the edge and let the wind course through his dark hair. He would put his arms out and just _feel _the gravity that threatened to tip him over. Falling would give him a nasty concussion, but it was not nearly far enough to do any real damage. He wondered if that was a normal thought. He decided that no, it wasn't normal, but his entire life was based on the abnormal so he paid it no mind.__

____

When Peter spaced out in class, he always dreamed about the bridge. He dreamed about climbing up on the fence and feeling the freedom of the world around him. He dreamed of the strong winds, and the waves that crashed beneath him. The ocean was so loud below, he could get lost in the noise. He dreamed about stepping off the ledge. Of the wind whipping at him as he plummeted. He dreamed of the slap of the water as it hit him. The sting he expected to feel is what pushed him out of his chair and caused him to scramble to his feet. His frequent bath room visits were just excuses for Peter to escape the burning eyes of his classmates. 

One night, he found himself walking. There was no destination, but he kept on marching to the patter of his own footsteps. The sky was dark and there was a chill in the air, the kind that bit at his sleeves less arms. He wished he was wearing his sweatshirt, the red and blue one that was as soft as it was stained. He continued to walk. When he stopped, he looked up to find the bridge staring ominously down at him. He blinked slowly and continued towards the sidewalk and the ledge he had dreamed about so often. He pulled himself onto the fence and sat, staring out at the roiling water beneath him. When he dreamed of this night, he always imagined it would be calmer. The wind not nearly as strong as it blew at him.  


With shaking hands, he reached into his pocket for his phone. The light from the screen projected a brightness onto his face, a blip within the dark sky. He pulled up the number pad and began to type in Tony's number- the direct line that he had memorized the day they met. He pulled it towards his ear and waited as it rang. The noise was seemingly endless, it always was. He never answered before, why would now be any different? He was brought to voicemail and stayed quiet after the beep. After a few seconds, he began to speak.

"It's cold out here tonight. I mean, I always imagined it would be- but it's really cold. Like, I can feel it in my fingers, in a way I couldn't when I dreamed about this. I always thought the ocean would be calm, the same kind of stillness that I feel right now. But it's not." Peter took a deep breath and continued. "I'm sorry for disappointing you. I never meant to, but you were right. Without that suit, I am nothing. I shouldn't have it. I have to go now, Tony. I'm on the Marine Parkway Bridge, and- I think I'm gonna jump." Peter shuddered and felt a tear roll down his cheeks. "I'm sorry I wasn't better." He sobbed as he ended the call and tossed his phone into the water. He watched through blurry vision as it was swept away with the waves.  


Peter moved his cold fingertips to the edge of the fence. His feet dangled dangerously and he felt the swaying of the air around him. He struggled to breath through the heavy emotion that sat in his chest. 

He wondered who Ned would build his Legos with once he was gone. He wondered who would find Aunt May's glasses when she inevitably forgot them on her head. The pain in him stung deeply because, contrary to looks, this wasn't easy. He could decide to live no more then he could decide to die. He didn't know what to do. All he knew was that the air felt wonderful here. Like he was wrapped up in the warm arms of a lover. He felt his hips edge closer off the ledge. He felt the steel dig into his flesh- he closed his eyes. He ran a hand down his wet face, committed the feeling to memory. And then he fell. The swiping sound of the wind rustling past his ears. The feel of the ocean spray. The night sky hushing and welcoming in its thick blanket of darkness. He felt free. He felt like he was swinging the way he used to. From building to building with webs spraying from his pale wrists. Then he heard the clashing of metal and bone. He registered the pain faster then the response to open his eyes. The sound of the water became distant. The arms encasing him were constricting. He wrenched his eyes open and saw Iron Man. He started to sob. 

"No!" He cried as he began to wrestle with the metal. He kicked his feet and used his tiny fists to punch at his abdomen. It did no good, it was like a parent restraining a toddler. "No, No, No! Stop it! Please!" 

Tony held him tight, whispering "I'm sorry" over and over like a prayer. He flew him to the closest roof top, and collapsed in a heap. Peter still sat securely in Tony's arms.

"No! I want to die- please let me go!" Peter sobbed, curling into a tight ball. Tony pulled his helmet off and his chest heaved with adrenaline. He made it just in time. Peter's words played in his head, like a nightmare. _It's cold out here tonight- I think I'm gonna jump. ___

____

____

"This isn't the answer Peter. This is never the answer," Tony cried. Peter looked up with shining eyes to see tears running down his face as well. He look tired but passionate. He looked like he cared. 

"How could you know? What I'm feeling-"

"It's the worst pain you have ever felt. You wake up every day a shell. Am I close?" 

Peter felt his face relax as sleep pulled at him. "Yeah." 

Tony sighed and wiped his eyes. "I'm going to take you home- okay? I'm here and I'm not going anywhere." Peter's head lolled as the past few months of insomnia caught up and pulled him under. Tony scooped him up, and pulled his helmet back on. Peter was relaxed when he was asleep, Tony realized. When he slept, he looked like a 15 year old should. Young and stress free. Happy. This was Tony's fault- he expected too much and it had almost taken a life. If he hadn't checked his phone.

Tony sent the suit home and tucked Peter into bed. He sat down at the boy's desk and rested his head in his palms. He would stay there the night, do whatever Peter needed to feel loved. Wanted. He changed Peter's number to priority in his phone.  


He stayed in Peter's room for hours that night. Long enough where he heard Aunt May come home and put herself to bed. At midnight, when sleep was pulling at his eye lids, his phone lit up and began to buzz. Bruce was calling. Bruce- the man he had left in a hurry after hearing Peter's voicemail. 

"Hey baby. Is Peter okay? I thought I heard his voice, but you left so fast. I was worried." Bruce's voice crackled over the phone with concern.  
"Hi- I didn't mean to worry you, but yeah- I made it in time. He was- he was jumping off the bridge." Tony's voice shook and he found his gaze protectively back on Peter.  
"Oh my god, is he okay? What happened?"

"He called me and it went to voicemail. When I heard it, he sounded broken. When I took his suit away, I had taken his hope away too. I made him believe that he was unwanted, that he had fucked up so bad that I would never want him again. I- I just wanted to scare him a little bit-" Tony gasped as he began to heave heavy breaths through his nostrils. His eyes burned and his hands shook. 

"Okay sweetheart, calm down. Take some deep breaths. What happened next?" 

"When I got to the bridge, he was falling. I caught him before he hit the water, but I was so close. A second later and-" he shuddered but then took a calming breath. "He's in bed right now. I don't think he's slept in a long time."

"Okay, that's good. Peter's safe. What about you- how are you doing?" 

"I can't stop thinking about it. Watching him fall, hearing his screams. He kept saying _No, No! Let me die _." Tony used the pads of his fingers to rub tiredly at the bridge of his nose. "Now, I've just been sitting here, watching him sleep. I'm afraid to leave. He-he could get up again and go back and he won't call me this time. Or he could take something or cut-"__

__"Hey, stop thinking about that. Stay with him. I could come over? Help you talk to Peter and Aunt May about what's going on."_ _

__"Yeah, that would be great. I'll send over the address. I love you."_ _

__"I love you too." Bruce said warmly and then Tony's phone went silent. He placed it down on the table, and looked back to Peter's sleeping form. Tony was going to make up for what he had done and one day, Peter would be an Avenger. For now, he settled on getting up from his chair and going over to the bed to card a hand through Peter's hair._ _


End file.
